Jun 25, 2014 / Beginner

Recommended Reading: What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

The writing process involves more than just writing. In Haruki Murakami’s memoir, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, we learn about his thought process and passion for a physical activity that also inspires his craft.

Rotated <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/bobjagendorf/8535316836">image</a> by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/bobjagendorf/">Bob Jagendorf</a> (<a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">CC BY 2.0</a>)

Much of the writing process doesn’t involve writing. That’s how it feels for me.

In some comments I read across the WordPress.com community, and in our current Writing 101 challenge, I notice that bloggers can be really hard on themselves.

I’m so behind.

I can’t think of anything to write.

I didn’t publish anything today.

Writing isn’t automatic; it’s not a mode you turn on and off. Think about our daily prompts, or our free-write challenges. You can’t always sit down and write. Writing is about much more than the physical act of writing — there’s a lot of thinking, observing, and simply being involved. I’ve been pondering this in the midst of Writing 101, in which we ask thousands of participants to experiment daily with their writing and respond to various scenarios. In many cases, the process itself — not the end product — is what really matters. But it’s a challenge because as bloggers, we’ve become used to clicking “Publish,” and equating writing with publishing.

I’m reminded of Haruki Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, a part-running diary, part-memoir that encapsulates my thoughts: that what we do when we’re not writing or typing — whether it’s a physical activity, an unrelated hobby, or nothing at all — is just as important as the act of writing itself:

Being active every day makes it easier to hear that inner voice.

Murakami, the Japanese author of Norwegian Wood and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, is an accomplished marathon and ultramarathon runner and triathlete. In What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, he describes his running routine — normally six miles a day, six days a week. His thoughts meander, and his prose is loose. I wouldn’t call the writing technically sharp — and if you’re interested, read Geoff Dyer’s criticism of the book — but the work itself is an exercise in meditation. Murakami is naked in a way, his mind right there on the page, exposing his thought process for us to see:

As I run I tell myself to think of a river. And clouds. But essentially I’m thinking of not a thing. All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing. No matter what anybody else says.

I used to run a lot. Never really an “athlete,” long-distance running was the one physical activity I enjoyed. Despite ankle injuries, I still run when I can, not simply for the exercise, but for the mental (and often creative) space that Murakami describes — a zone in which to clear the mind, to invite the unexpected. This non-writing zone doesn’t have to be physically demanding: from gardening and playing the piano to knitting and cooking, breathing space from the act of writing comes in different forms. (Tasks involving water, like washing the dishes and taking a bath, can unlock ideas — consider this post by Alec Nevala-Lee on thinking in the shower.)

Murakami also compares running and writing as ways to push yourself:

Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that’s the essence of running, and a metaphor for life — and for me, for writing as well.

I love running because it can be solitary; I set my own goals. The only person I have to beat is myself, and likewise, when it comes to my own writing, I am my main critic. I learn from and welcome feedback from other writers, but in the end, I set my own limits. Being one writer among so many, in a competitive environment, it’s sometimes hard to keep this perspective. But whenever I pick up this book and turn to a random page, Murakami manages to say something simple about life, writing, and being human — and it’s these quiet moments of enlightenment I enjoy the most.

For a sampling, you can “look inside” the book online.

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  1. I loved this post, it really blessed me! As a runner myself, I completely understand this. Some of my finest writing has come after my longest runs.

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  2. You have just clarified something for me that I have been growing towards- my experience shows me that it is from everyday life I get an immediate motivation and urge to write. If I don’t follow that, then the idea remains, but the passion goes. This gives me the push to look at how I have been trying to do things. Thank you, and I shall read the book.

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  7. I haven’t read the book, but I’m certainly inspired to now. That last quote and your comment definitely hit the nail on the head for me when it comes to running and writing.

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  8. I definitely need to read this book, since I have absolutely the same attitude to running. It helps me to empty my mind, to look at my life globally, to think about the future, in brief to concentrate on the things which sometimes are hided by daily routine.

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  10. Thanks so much for posting this. Too often we say “I’m afraid that….” or “I can’t……” (or my personal favorite “I try….” Anyway, it’s true. Beating ourselves up over whatever: no writing every day, not getting it right, not doing it right, not not not…are ineffective. And learning to stop beating up on ourselves for being us or me or not as good/pretty/fast as someone else takes a lot of practice. A lifetime, one could say! So thanks again. J.

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  11. PS: re: running/thinking. I feel the same with swimming laps. I don’t think, I just move and thoughts come and go. Random….which is often the way I write, I just realized! LOL.

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  12. I have to say Yoga has been my ‘running’ for a while now…I had to stop because of a bad knee injury (hope to pick it up again soon) and I have noticed the difference…nothing like “running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence”…beautiful…clearing my head before writing is a must and not often easy to achieve with other things that have to happen in the day…but when they do…nothing like it! Thank you for posting this, and will have to read more Murakami!

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  13. Just like you, long distance running is one of my favourite sports. I am new at blogging and hope that running will help me generate creative ideas

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  15. Writing isn’t automatic; it’s not a mode you turn on and off. Think about our daily prompts, or our free-write challenges. You can’t always sit down and write. Writing is about much more than the physical act of writing — there’s a lot of thinking, observing, and simply being involved.

    You are so damn right.. Like this sentences most!))

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  16. In light of this I must now read the work in question; this is interesting and I can certainly understand the value of personal goalposts. I think that achievements can be short lived due to the ever moving goal posts!

    The only point, above, that riles me is the one concerning ‘modes’; ‘writing isn’t a mode’. For me it can be, somehow. I can sit and tune into a frequency almost, reach a ‘place’, then the work writes itself. For me writing is largely a process of ‘listening’.
    This sounds bonkers and, heavens, lets not forget the ‘editing’ process.
    Ha ha ha!

    I cannot WAIT to read this work now!

    Thanks xX

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  17. This has given me something to think about for sure. The idea of creating a ‘safe space’ to run in where you try not to think of a thing is rather liberating and I’m totally trying it. Thanks for posting 🙂

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  18. Thanks for the post! He is one of my favorite Japanese write. His new long fiction is due this year. Really looking forward to it~

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